Humble Beginnings
by grawpwanthagger
Summary: Patrick Dawlish didn't expect to go places until he got his letter. This is the story of the boy who would one day become an auror in the fight against Voldemort. Rated for safety. Dedicated to Mr. John Noe of PotterCast.
1. Mr Patrick Dawlish

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Harry Potter. If we did, we'd be writing Book 7 now wouldn't we?

A/N: This is the first joint fic of MuggleCastlover31and BlindingPinkObsession. It is dedicated to Mr. John Noe of PotterCast. 'Why?' you ask? Because it's about Dawlish, and he gave us the idea for it. Oh and we love reviews, but please no flames!

A/A/N: For the most part, we will be alternating chapters. This one came from the brilliant (and crazy) mind of MuggleCastlover31. And…here we go!

* * *

Chapter One: Mr. Patrick Dawlish

Five young boys could be seen playing a friendly, but competitive game of football in the park. Shouts of "Over here!" and "Pass the ball to me!" could be heard throughout the neighborhood. All five boys were sweating profusely in the warm summer sun. None of them wanted to be seen as the weakest so they didn't take a break- not one would admit defeat before the rest. But soon enough they all sat underneath the shade of the nearby trees. They were all panting heavily.

"What? Had enough?" a tall, black-haired boy taunted.

"Oh, shut up Kevin," a brown haired boy replied, rolling his eyes. "You're just as tired as we are."

"Yeah, Martin's right. Just sit down and stop trying to show off," another brown haired boy said, throwing a water bottle at Kevin.

Kevin just scoffed slightly and sat down.

"I reckon we'll get sunburnt if we keep playing out here..." a freckly blond haired boy said.

"Bert's probably right. He's always right," the brown haired boy said.

"No! That's not true at all Patrick! I'm not always right!" Bert said. For some reason he thought it was an insult. Bert was highly sensitive.

"For heaven's sake Bert, relax!" another blond haired boy exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"I agree with Edward," Patrick said lazily.

Bert just pouted and turned away from the rest of them.

It was just a couple more weeks until the summer holidays would be over. Though none of them liked school very much, with the exception of Patrick, they weren't too worried about it. They would all be off to secondary school this year, and they all agreed that it would be very exciting. The only thing that worried them was not having classes together. However much the five of them fought or argued, Kevin Hughes, Martin Zerger, Bert Yeager, Edward Mercer, and Patrick Dawlish were the best of friends. Kevin, Edward and Patrick had been friends since the first day of primary school. Bert and Martin had come along the next year. They had moved to their school and didn't have any friends. Patrick and his friends were quick to befriend the two and after that, the five had been inseparable. During the summer, they would always spend the days together swimming, playing football, or just lazing around.

"It's getting dark. Mother is expecting me home for dinner tonight. I better leave," Edward said, standing up.

"We should all probably get home," Patrick said, though he had no desire to go home. Home for him wasn't exactly the happiest of places.

"Well then...What shall we do tomorrow?" Kevin said as the boys started to walk out of the park.

"Let's go swimming in the pool behind your house! We haven't gone swimming in awhile," Bert suggested.

"Sure, why not. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind. How about the four of you come around at ten. We can have lunch at my place," Kevin replied.

One by one the boys waved goodbye to their friends and turned down small streets to go back home. At the end only Patrick was left as his house was the farthest from the park. He walked as slowly as he could, trying to take his time in getting home. Home always reminded him of all the bad things that had happened. Only time with his friends really took any of the bad memories away.

Patrick looked up and saw the door to his house much sooner than he had wanted to. With heavy steps he walked inside. Quietly he slipped off his shoes and went into the kitchen. While he had been playing he hadn't realized how hungry he was. But as he walked into the kitchen he saw his father sitting at the table with a stony look upon his face while looking at a letter. His tie hug loosely around his shoulders, his glasses were on his head, and his eyes were red.

"Patrick, we need to talk," his father said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Okay..." Patrick said. This was strange. His father and him barely ever talked. Ever since...well ever since _that thing _had happened, they barely ever spoke to each other in anything other than monosyllables.

"Patrick," his father started, then stopped and cleared his throat.

Patrick looked down at his hands. This was so wierd.

"You...you know how your mother...your mother was a witch, correct?" his father said, looking everywhere but at him

_Mother?_ They hadn't spoken about his mother since she had died three years ago. What was going on?

"Of course I know," Patrick responded, trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

"Well, you know how she went to a special boarding school for magic? You've been accepted there as well," he said very fast, and handed him a letter.

It said:

Dear Mr. Dawlish,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1.

Yours sincerely,

Agatha Fitzgerald,

Deputy Headmistress

Patrick just stared at the letter for a moment. This was too much. He hadn't thought about magic since his mother had passed away. He had started to think that magic was almost evil. His mother had worked on the Committee On Experimental Charms at the Ministry of Magic where one of her spells had backfired and had killed her. Before the accident he had always wished to be a wizard, but after the accident, he wasn't sure he wanted to anymore. After all, look at what it had done to his family. First it had killed his mother and then emotionally damaged his father to such as extent that he barely ever talked. And he would have to spend the whole year away from his friends! It was not as if he could even tell them where he was going. He may not have known much about magic and magical people, but he knew that they must live in secrecy. His friends were like his brothers...did he have the heart to leave? And yet, his curiosity was getting the better of him. What _would_ it be like to learn magic? And he would get away from his mopey father. _That _would certainly be a welcome change.

When he looked up he saw that his father was looking at him expectantly.

"Are you going to go?"

"Yes," Patrick replied firmly.


	2. Breaking the News

Disclaimer: The voices inside my head are screaming something at me…oh, it's "You don't own Harry Potter!" sigh Alas, I do not.

A/N: 'Sup? It's BlindingPinkObsession here with Chapter 2!!!

Chapter Two: Breaking the News

Patrick didn't sleep well that night. After 12:30 am he lost track of how many times he had tossed, turned, or thrown his covers off. While his body begged for sleep, his mind raced and strayed to his anxiety of breaking the news to his friends. It was like he was going to disappear off the face of the planet. The part that irked him the most though, was the small feeling of happiness and curiosity of leaving that resided in his heart. He felt as if he were betraying his best friends. He squeezed his eyes shut and started to count backwards from fifty. This action brought another pant to his heart as he realized that counting backwards had been an old trick of his mother's. He felt so many different emotions which mad him all the more confused. Patrick finally dozed off in the early hours of the morning.

The next morning Patrick woke up to the sound of his next-door-neighbor mowing their lawn. He groggily glanced at the clock and realized that it was already 10:17. "Bloody alarm clock," he mumbled as he quickly threw on his swimming shorts and a t-shirt. He ran a hand through his medium-length brown hair as he scrambled down the stairs. "Going to Kevin's," he shouted at his father, who was sitting in front of the television, as he ran through the kitchen. He didn't even wait for a reply, not that he expected one, before thrusting the door open and starting to run to Kevin's.

As he pushed open the gate to the pool he found his friends already in the water; the hot summer sun reflected in its surface.

"Patrick!" Kevin called, noticing his arrival. Soon the other boys were greeting Patrick as well.

"What took you so long Pat?" questioned Martin, sliding over to the edge of the pool.

"Overslept," mumbled Patrick.

"Something bothering you, Pat?" Kevin asked. "Why the long face?"

"Oh, nothing," he answered casually, shrugging his shoulders. He plastered a grin on his face and soon joined the others for a morning of fun.

oOoOoOo

After a late lunch, the boys could be seen lying in the grass behind Kevin's house. "So," started Edward, striking up a conversation, "starting to think about secondary school?"

A couple of "yeah"s or "not much"s circulated throughout the group.

"What about you Patrick?" said Edward, sitting up to face the said boy. Patrick was lying on his back; his eyes closed.

"Er…" he muttered, "what was the question?"

"Something you'd like to share with the class there Patrick?" interjected Kevin. "You've been distracted all day."

"I'm just not feeling that well, guys," he responded, hoping they would believe him. "I think I'll go home." He picked himself off the ground, ignoring the protests. "Bye guys," he said as he raised a hand in farewell. With that, he started him walk home.

When he returned, he wasn't surprised to see his father still sitting in front of the television. Letting the slam of the front screen door be his notice that he was home, Patrick trudged up to his room and sat down on his bed. Sighing, he picked up a random book off of the floor and started to read.

oOoOoOo

"Patrick!"

Patrick opened his eyes and stretched. He had fallen asleep while reading. Rubbing his eyes, he stood and made his way downstairs to see what his father wanted.

"Patrick, you have a visitor," his father said quietly once Patrick had appeared, gesturing to the back porch over his shoulder. His current position was at the kitchen table reading the journal.

As Patrick approached the back screen door he recognized the head of black hair to belong to Kevin.

"Hey," greeted Patrick, shutting the door gently behind him.

"Hey yourself," said Kevin. Gesturing to the spot next to him on the step he said, "sit down." Patrick obeyed. "So, are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?" asked Kevin.

"Is that why you're here?" asked Patrick bluntly.

"Well, actually…I drew the short straw between me and Ed, so…aww just kidding." Kevin replied. Patrick could tell that Kevin was trying to cheer him up. "But something's bugging you, and it's my duty as a friend and as a nosy guy to find out what it is."

"Well…" Patrick started, not sure if now was the best time to break the news that he was leaving. He decided against his own wishes though, and told Kevin. He told him that he would not be returning to school with their group of friends; that he would be going away to a boarding school in Ireland.

"My dad wants me to go. It was also my mother's old school." Patrick concluded. He turned to look at Kevin and did not see the face of anger like he had envisioned before. It was one of the few times that Patrick had spoken about his mother, and Kevin was surprised.

"So…" said Kevin, breaking the silence, "you thought we would be angry, correct?" Patrick wondered if he was really that predictable.

"You're not angry?" questioned Patrick anxiously.

"No, of course not," replied Kevin. "Sad, yes, but not angry. Tell me one thing though, do _you _want to go?" Patrick hadn't been expecting this question.

"Er…yes, actually. I'm curious about it," he said quietly. "I just didn't know how to tell you guys."

"I can understand that," replied Kevin. "D'you want me to tell the others?" he offered.

"Really?" asked Patrick, sounding relieved. "It might make things easier. I'll owe you big time."

"You betcha!" said Kevin, cracking a grin. "Now, how about you come back with me and we enjoy the rest of the holiday! Let's just forget about this for now."

"All right," agreed Patrick. "You're a really great friend Kevin, you know that right?"

"I've been told…" replied Kevin with a smirk.

"Let me rephrase that," said Patrick, laughing as they started to walk. "You're a great friend…when you're not being a git!"


	3. Mother and Wife

Disclaimer: If I was J.K. Rowling I'd been wearing my Micah silhouette shirt...But you see it says _if_ and that means I'm not her and therefore do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: mclover here with chapter 3! Sorry it's a bit late...Remember, please R&R!

* * *

Chapter Three: Mother and Wife 

Patrick knew that he was getting a little bit of special treatment from his friends even though they had agreed to just forget about his leaving at the end of the holidays. Ever since Kevin had told them, as he said he would, they tried to spend even more time together. It was as though they were trying to spend the amount of time with him that they would've gotten to in a year, in just a couple days. Edward had been a little cold towards him at first but had warmed up soon enough. He had realized that his anger wasn't going to sway Patrick's decision.

Though they played hard during the day and Patrick usually slept soundly, there was always a feeling of dread and anticipation in his stomach. Everyday he wondered whether or not he had made the right decision. Should he really be going? He barely ever talked to his father already but would his leaving completely tear apart the already fragile relationship that they had? Even though he had made the decision to leave based on the fact that going to a boarding school would lessen his time at home, he almost didn't want to leave now. Maybe their father-son relationship could still be salvaged...

He had been looking through the envelope that had arrived with his acceptance letter. There was a list of books he needed and other general items he needed to bring. He knew the only place to buy any of these items was Diagon Alley. He had been there a couple of times with his mother. Those memories were nothing more that whispered images. He was, in any case, certain that he could find The Leaky Cauldron.

oOoOoOo

It was the Saturday before term started and he needed to get his supplies soon. He would have to talk to his father about going to Diagon Alley.

"Um, father? Could I have some money to go buy my school things?" Patrick asked.

"Of course, son. When should we go?"

"_We?"_ He wanted to come with him? Of course Patrick wouldn't stop him from coming, but this was strange. He hadn't thought that his father would want to come to a place that would remind him of his dead wife.

"Well term starts on Monday-"

"You left this rather late didn't you?" his father interrupted.

"Yes, so I was thinking maybe we could go now."

"All right, that's fine. But do you know how to get to…what was that place? Oh yes, Diagon Alley? I only went a couple times with you mother and that was many years ago."

"Yes, I know the way," Patrick said, walking back to his room.

The dread had left his stomach and had been replaced by pure anticipation and excitement. He was going to really be wizard. Of course he was- he was going to go and buy a magic wand!

oOoOoOo

The trip to Diagon Alley had been uneventful enough. They had driven in silence to where Patrick knew the muggle entrance was. His father had been unable to see the door to the Leaky Cauldron and Patrick had had to help him. After that they had entered the narrow alley way that was stuffed full of everything a wizard could possibly ever need.

Both Patrick and his father had been a little overwhelmed as memories of their mother and wife, respectively, washed over them. They had just stood there looking around for a minute, hastily blinking back tears starting to form. They made a silent agreement to not comment on that brief moment of weakness and started to go about their business with certain gusto.

Their first stop had been getting a cauldron. The shopkeeper had been very helpful as both Patrick and his father had been rather helpless. Neither knew exactly what they were supposed to get. The shopkeeper must've seen that they were rather unfamiliar with the magical world and was a great help. But when the topic of payment came up and the shopkeeper asked for galleons and sickles, both Patrick and his father realized their mistake. They had completely forgotten about the different currency. The shopkeeper told them that they should go to Gringott's first and exchange their money.

Both of them had followed the shopkeeper's directions and traveled to the bank. They had both also received a fright when they saw the goblins. After they had their money exchanged, they headed back to buy the cauldron.

Next they had bought robes for 'daily use' as the list said, and a cloak with silver fastenings. After that they had seen the wand shop. Patrick had loved that the most. A magic wand! The many times he had seen his mother use her wand to make things levitate, or fix a plate he had just dropped. Every time she had used it he had wanted one. A wand to him was the ability to make things happen so easily. His wand was twelve and a half inches long, made of willow, and had a unicorn hair as the core. Mr. Ollivander had said that it was a rather powerful wand and that Patrick was lucky to have it. He had also said that it was a good wand for charm work. Patrick wasn't completely sure what that meant, but he knew that it was a good thing.

As he entered Flourish and Blotts, Patrick thought his head would explode. While his father went to get the schoolbooks that he needed, Patrick, who loved to read, browsed through the store and picked up six extra books about everything from the documentation of all wizard history to the latest jinxes and spells. He would've gotten more but his father stopped him. Ladden with books, garments and all sorts of accessories, they went around getting the rest of him supplies until they ended up in front a store that had broomsticks in the front window. There were all sorts of styles, varying in grandeur. Why would there be brooms? And so lavishly displayed? He ran over to the shop and looked up at the store name. It said "Quality Quidditch Supplies" in large, bold letters. Quidditch…it sounded vaguely familiar. Then it started to come back to him. Images of people flying through the air and throwing a red ball or dodging a black one went through his mind. He remembered. His mother had taken him to a game once. She had been an avid fan but with a muggle husband and a child she had not been able to go as much as she would have liked. Patrick remembered some of the positions as well, though he wouldn't bet his life that he had them right. Chaser….Beater…Finder…and Goalkeeper? Well it was something to that effect. At least he could follow a game if he ever saw one again. Was there Quidditch at the school?

"Is there Quidditch at Hogwarts?" Patrick inadvertently blurted out. He turned around to see his father standing rigidly with a blank look on his face.

"Yes," his father said, choking a little on the word.

"Oh…Okay," Patrick replied with a weary look on his face.

His father's expression had become one of nostalgia. "She loved it so much. She played on her house team. Ravenclaw. Damn good at it too, according to what her friends told me! I told her she should keep playing after we got married but she left the Tornados. She said she wanted to have a family. So she settled down- had you. Then she got a j ob at the Ministry of Magic. But her love of the game never left her. She still went to games. Even I went a couple times. She took you once or twice too. God, I miss Quidditch."

But it wasn't Quidditch that he missed. It was his wife. One solitary tear had escaped and fell down his cheek. He seemed to become embarrassed because he quickly turned and walked away.

Patrick was almost trembling. That was the most he had head from his father's mouth in a long time. And he had spoken so much about his mother. Before all this, thinking of his mother had been…well he rarely thought about her. But now he was almost forced to even though he didn't want to. Those memories brought only pain. It would be easier to just shut them out. Slowly he turned away from the store and walked back to catch up with his father.

oOoOoOo

Everything was set. His trunk was packed with all his books, but not before he had read them. So much to learn! There was so much! He had also looked through the extra books that he had bought. It was all so interesting. Patrick had always loved to read and learn, but this was truly amazing. A whole new world for him to learn from had opened up. But really the books were only there to distract him from the quickly approaching Monday. It was the first time he would really be leaving his _home_. He knew he would miss Kevin and all the rest. It wasn't even as though he could write to them. The only person that he _could_ write to was his father. But he didn't really want to write to him. Or did he? Now that he came around to it, there was the possibility that he might miss his father. Most likely not, but it was possible.


End file.
